


At the End of it All

by infamousplot



Category: Fate/Prototype, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 02:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infamousplot/pseuds/infamousplot
Summary: After the tenth plague takes its toll, Ramses gets a final visit from the man he once called his brother.





	At the End of it All

Never had Ramses’ kingdom seemed so silent, so empty. Ravaged by famine, by disease, by flames… The skies had not been clear in days, an unearthly darkness keeping the sun from reaching its people. Smoke from the still-burning fires did nothing to help with the blackening clouds. Beneath the smell of ash was the pervasive smell of death, clinging to him invisibly, like a ghost. Ramses stood before the throne, where he had sat with his son only a day ago. How could it have come to this? 

To be Pharaoh meant he must be willing to sacrifice. His own life was too valuable to throw away, as he was meant to be a guiding light for his kingdom. The sun was too vital to risk destruction, but those who lived beneath it… His people, though it was not preferable, if it were for the sake of winning a battle, making a point… Not even the strongest army could win a war without losing a few men. Ramses had thought he had made peace with that long ago. He had stood tall and challenged the so-called god of the Hebrews. He had remained firm, refusing to admit defeat, willing to accept the cost, no matter how high it might climb… How could he have known, that he might lose something so precious, so close to him?

His own child. The first to be born between him and Nefertari… For what must have been the tenth time that day, Ramses felt the hot sting of tears, from fury and from sorrow, and he fought to keep them from falling. He could not afford to show weakness now. Not when the on behind it all was here.

He hadn’t needed to turn around to know that it was Moses who stood behind him. That quiet presence, almost hesitant to reach out, was one Ramses could not forget so easily.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask why you’re here.” He spoke coldly, gazing into the shadowed hall before him. Everything felt so dark. 

“No… I suppose not.” Moses replied softly, a sorrow deeper than the sea in his voice. Ramses wished that he would gloat. Show some sort of pride or anger, a reason for Ramses to strike him, to unleash his rage. But Moses had never been that type of person. “I’m sorry, Ramses. I never wished for this to happen…”

“And yet, you willed it to!” Ramses laughed, dry and harsh. “You brought down blow after blow, and now, here we are. Again, you come to me, to ask me to ‘let your people go.’” He seethed, whirling to face Moses, who stood unflinchingly before him. “Have you not taken enough already?”

Moses looked at him sadly. Ramses knew there was no point in arguing, but how could he back down now, after everything he had lost? To concede defeat, to let Moses walk away with those slaves… with the ruin his kingdom had been left in, they would need them now more than ever. Truly, their God wished to break him- and pitifully, it seemed, it was working. 

“It won’t end, Ramses. Not until you let them go. I cannot stop it.”

“Would you? If you had that power, would you end it?” Ramses asked him, staring him in the eyes. Part of him expected Moses to falter. His younger brother had always been a timid thing, looking to him for guidance, and even upon his return, he had relied on that other man, his  _ other _ brother, to help him pick his words. Now though, he hardly wavered. Perhaps there was nothing Ramses could say, to hurt him, to make him reconsider. He had come this far. His resolve was strong, and to give in now, when Ramses was nearly on his knees… Moses was sentimental, but he was no fool.

“... If there were a way to end things without so much death… I would have taken that path in a heartbeat. But you made it very clear that that was not an option.” Moses was pained, but he remained composed. Ramses shook.

“Do not try and push the blame onto my shoulders. You knew that I could not simply release all of the slaves, Moses- to do away with our labor force, where would that leave us?! I have done what I must as Pharaoh-”

“And I have done what I must. As a prophet and as a person.” Moses stared at him. In this moment, Ramses could not feel any divine being speaking through Moses, but even so there was a power about him, a confidence that rang clear and strong even through his sorrow. “A kingdom that profits from oppression, that is built on the backs of slaves, is not something to be proud of, Ramses. It is not something I can just accept any more. I know that it is all you’ve ever known, but I know better now. We have both accepted that terrible things would happen, if we continued to pursue what we believed to be right, and now we both have blood on our hands.” 

Moses spoke with an unwavering clarity, certainty overcoming his solemnity, and Ramses’ rage burned fiercer. That he could compare the two of them, with such a straight face!

“You have committed unspeakable crimes-”

“I’ve done the same as you have.” Moses smiled sadly. Even now, he looked upon Ramses like he might an old friend.

“You dare to say such a thing... That I would ever-!”

“Sacrifice the lives of an other people, to ensure the wellbeing of your own?” Moses’s expression remained the same. Kind. Sympathetic. As though he understood him. It made Ramses’ blood boil. How could he stand there and speak so calmly, when the blood of his and Nefertari’s child- Moses’s own nephew!- was on his hands? “The Hebrews, your slaves Ramses, they are my people. I told you I wouldn’t sit back and watch any longer.”

“Our mother and father were of Egypt, your  _ family _ \- does that mean nothing to you any more?” Ramses hissed. It felt like some beast was in his chest, clawing its way out with all its might, not caring for the damage it caused along the way.

“I have not forgotten where I came from, Ramses… I won’t ever be able to. If there were a way to settle things without violence, you  _ know _ that I would have taken that path in a heartbeat. But you-”

“My child is dead because of you!” Ramses roared. Like an animal. The tears, though few, managed to escape, and he did not care, if Moses saw him like this. He had already taken everything from him, what did it matter, if he saw him at his worst? “My son- your nephew! He is dead, because of you and your plagues! And still you have the gall to stand here and tell me this is my fault?!” The beast would not stop its clawing. He felt like he was caving in. How could it have come to this? His brother, his best friend, responsible for so many deaths… And yet Moses stood there, lecturing him like a child. 

Ramses could kill him. It would be easy. Even with his so-called God, the monstrous force behind all this, Ramses had the power to annihilate Moses where he stood. With one simple blast, the ‘Deliverer’ would be nothing more than a stain on the floor of the palace that had been his home. Ramses hand shook as he gripped his staff, pointing it at the boy he once would have given his life to defend… 

“I’m sorry, Ramses…” Moses whispered, the power from moments before now furled back into him, hidden beneath an unmistakeable grief. What more could he say? No apology could ever suffice. No words could undo what had already transpired. Moses had warned him, just the other day, but Ramses knew he would not rub that in his face, nor would he even mention it. “From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply, and truly sorry for your loss…” 

His sincerity was unbearable. As the energy built behind Ramses’ spell, crackling within his staff, he wanted to hate Moses, wanted to feel nothing but satisfaction as he wiped him off the face of the earth. 

“I didn’t want it to come to this any more than you did, Ramses.” Moses continued, after a long silence, filled only by the pressure of Ramses’ magic building. Moses could sense it, Ramses was sure- even if he could not feel the tightness in the air, he must have been able to see the way Ramses’ hair and capes lifted, floating as if on their own accord. He knew what his brother intended to do, and still he stood, without fear, without any intention of bowing down or fleeing. He had grown so much. “But my people-”

“ _ We _ were your people.” Ramses hissed, but it came out soft and broken. He had the power to destroy Moses, but then where would he be? Another person who he loved, dead and gone. It would not bring back his son. It would not bring back anything.

Finally, that strength faltered, and Moses’s face appeared fragile. Guilt and pain swam behind his violet eyes. It was true, what he said. Neither one of them had wanted things to come to this point, and yet, Ramses could see no other way. No matter how much Moses spoke of wishing to take a different path, in the end it was merely that, a wish. Ramses could not allow the changes Moses demanded, and Moses could accept nothing less. Destruction of one side was inevitable, and somehow, Ramses had lost.

The magic around him began to wane, his cape falling gently back into place, as the power coursing through him faded back into nothing. He lowered his staff, knowing there was no point in fooling himself. At the end of everything, though he stood before him with all his crimes out in the open, Ramses could not kill his brother. 

“Go.” He turned away. There was nothing more to be said between them, no words that could make their reality any less painful.

“Ramses…” Moses started, and Ramses could almost see it, his hand reaching out, hesitant but with purpose, wanting to comfort the man who had become his enemy. Ramses would not have it.

“ _ Go. _ ” He snarled, fighting down the pain inside of him. “This is what you wanted, yes? To take  _ your people _ and leave? Then do so. Begone. Leave me and what it mine, and do not return.”

The space between them that had crackled with energy moments ago now filled with silence, welling up and drowning Ramses. There were still words that Moses wished to say, and Ramses could feel them, their weight pressing upon him, threatening to crush him. But what could he say that had not already been said? There was no place for gratitude, no way to properly express regret. It was over now. Moses had won.

When Ramses finally turned around, his brother was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a fan of Ramses and Moses in the Fate Series ever since I saw their designs. While there isn't much information out on Moses's personality in Fate, I still wanted to try my hand at writing an interaction between him and Ramses. As you probably saw, this draws inspiration from The Prince of Egypt, and is a bit of a departure from Fate's depiction (which states Ramses felt no ill will toward Moses at the end). I hope you enjoyed!


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